


A Castle-Oriented Story

by katrinawritesthings



Series: Castle au [1]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual, Fantasy, Fluff, M/M, taemplants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10656231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: “True love’s first kiss isn’t really a thing that happens when you’re aromantic.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> u kno how when u start writing a prince-locked-in-a-castle drabble nd then a week nd a half later its twenty-five pages nd seventeen thousand words

“Where’s your armor?”

  
It takes Taemin a moment to really notice the question from behind him; he breathes harshly, leaning against the stone wall, hand on his chest, blonde hair mussed and sticking to his sweaty face. Fuck, he remembers dragons being slower than the one out there. Also with much smaller, less fiery mouths. He notices his bandanna lumped on the floor in the hallway and frowns, stumbling a little bit when he picks it up. It’s singed and burned, almost halfway gone, when he shakes it out and he sighs, grabbing the doorframe for support as he swings back inside to thunk against the wall. He plops the remains of it over his eyes and groans, breathing deeply for a moment more before pushing it and his hair out of his face.

  
His eyes fall on a man–a prince, supposedly–lounging on his side in a four-poster bed, finger keeping his place in some book and looking at Taemin with a raised eyebrow under spiky black hair. Taemin swallows thickly, running shaky fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling soot and grime and days of travel coating his skin, looking at this dude that’s looking back at him with the most blasè expression on the planet.

  
“What?” he asks. He swears he had a better introduction planned out in the time it took him to get up to this point. Something about suave grins and roses and an impressive dagger-sheathing as he walked in. The knife he dropped to avoid becoming just as charred as the knight slumped against the wall he was inspecting when the dragon appeared out of nowhere behind him, and the roses were burned to a crisp when he realized that he dropped the wrong item and had nothing to defend himself with. He didn’t have the best time getting up here, he’ll be honest. As he catches his breath, he gets a better look at this prince; tanned and muscular, angled face, dark eyes, a simple vest and trousers combo. “You’re Jonghyun, right?” he asks. “Lost prince of the mountain settlers?” He did not come all this way for the wrong prince.

  
“I wouldn’t really say lost, but, yeah,” Jonghyun confirms, folding the corner of his page down and tossing the book onto his bedside table. “Where’s your armor?” he repeats curiously, propping himself up on his elbow and resting his head in his hand. Taemin frowns. This is less than the welcome that he was expecting. He’s sure that he didn’t have the most glorious entrance either, but still.

  
“I don’t have armor,” he says. He slides down the wall until he can sit on the floor, sighing gratefully at the rest for his legs. Jonghyun tilts his head.

  
“That’s not very knightly of you,” he points out. Taemin scoffs, letting his legs sprawl out and his arms hang limp at his sides, his eyes slide shut. No one ever told him how tiring princely rescues could be once the adrenaline wore off. A tiny smile pulls his lips up as he cracks open his eyes again.

  
“I’m not a knight,” he says. “Just a guy on an adventure.”

  
“Seems like a lot of trouble for an adventure,” Jonghyun says, quirking a brow. Taemin shrugs, lifting a hand and waving it around halfheartedly.

  
“Yeah, well,” he says, and fuck, he really can’t do the thinking thing right now. Who knew that almost getting scorched and devoured by a dragon could be so energy draining? Jonghyun laughs softly from his bed and shifts to get more comfortable.  
“Do you wanna take a bath or something first?” he asks, gesturing to a door at the side. “I can smell you from here.”

  
“You have a bath?” Taemin asks, perking up immediately. Holy fucking shit. He struggles to stand up, using the wall to support him since his jelly legs don’t seem to want to. Jonghyun scoffs, an offended noise.

  
“Of course I do,” he says. “Just fill it up and pull the lever if you want it more than lukewarm, but I wouldn’t just now. Kibum’s definitely not in the best of moods.”

  
Taemin isn’t even listening; he has his dirty shirt over his head before he even shoulders open the door.

  
~

  
It’s when he realizes that his fingers have turned all pruney and he’s drained and refilled the tub three times that Taemin thinks maybe it’s time to get out. He groans as he sits up, wiping water out of his eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. He’ll never take baths for granted again. He’s still weak and exhausted, yeah, but fuck if it isn’t nice to feel clean. He tugs his trousers back on but passes over the shirt with a grimace; he’ll get one from Jonghyun. Or just go shirtless all the way through his daring rescue. That should be fun.

  
“Did you fall asleep in there or what?” Jonghyun asks as Taemin strolls out of the bathroom, fresh and clean and in a much better mood than before. He grins, running his fingers through his hair so it’ll dry the way he likes. He doesn’t answer because he can’t be entirely sure that he didn’t doze off for a few minutes during the second soak.

  
“Who’s Kibum?” he asks instead, taking a seat in a comfy looking armchair in the corner of the room.

  
“The dragon,” Jonghyun says simply, folding his place in his book again and sitting up so he can lean back against his headboard and look at Taemin appraisingly. “Part of my curse is he’s supposed to help me live in here. Heat my water, bring me food, just dragony things. He’s not that bad, usually. Sometimes we play this game where he tries to kill me and I hide around the corner and hold out food on a stick for him to torch. I call it high-risk-barbecue.” He’s smirking in this way that makes it so Taemin can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. He squints at him for a moment, then shrugs, hiding a yawn his hand.

“Well,” he says, “once I rescue you out of here you’ll have to settle for regular-risk barbecue.” He smiles at his own joke; Jonghyun laughs softly as well, but he shakes his head and laces his fingers behind his hair.

“Nah,” he says. Taemin frowns.

“Nah?” he repeats. Jonghyun shrugs, smiling pleasantly.

“Nah,“ he confirms. “Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t seem at all troubled by this. Taemin rests his chin in his hand.

“Why not?” he asks. “Is the dragon gonna torch us or something when we try to leave?”

“Nah, not that. It’s the curse that keeps me in here, not Kibum. He’s there mostly to keep other people out.” Oh, shit. The curse. Taemin forgot about that. Something about true love creating a way out, maybe a first kiss, blah blah, princely legends. To be honest, he’s just been winging this whole thing ever since he reached the mountains. It still shouldn’t be a problem, though. He’s a great guy. He’s sure Jonghyun will be lovely also. They’ll figure it out.

“True love’s first kiss, right?” he asks. “That shouldn’t be too hard. We can have our first little dinner date right here. We can even play high-risk barbecue for it.” He winks; Jonghyun snorts, wiggling to get more comfortable.

“Sounds fun, but, nah,” he says again. “It’s not gonna happen. Trust me.”

“Well, why not?” Taemin asks, pouting. He’d heard from the mountain people that their lost prince was picky, but he’s not even giving Taemin a chance. Did he have that bad of a first impression?

“True love’s first kiss isn’t really a thing that happens when you’re aromantic.”

Oh.

That makes a lot of sense. That makes a lot of things make a lot of sense. Taemin slumps down in his chair.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says. He’s smiling pleasantly and letting his head fall onto his own shoulder. “Kinda got fucked, didn’t I?”

~

“Hey, so, uh,” Taemin says, looking blearily out of the window at the tops of the mountains surrounding the castle. They look so calm and peaceful from up here, but he knows being down in the thick of them is not the nicest experience. A cool breeze blows through the open window and he shivers when it shuffles his hair. He’s again grateful that Jonghyun offered him one of his spare shirts. He looks back over his shoulder at where Jonghyun is ruffling a towel through his hair after his own bath; Jonghyun hums in question and glances up quickly. “Would you happen to have another bed, or something, by any chance?” Taemin asks. “I didn’t think to bring a fucking tent up to meet my prince in distress.” Jonghyun laughs into his towel.

“I don’t, no,” he says, slinging it around his neck. “I think the idea was that having me share a single bed with some stranger in shining armor would strengthen my loving bond for them or some shit. Or that I was just supposed to fall in love with them the minute they walked through the door.” He shrugs and stretches his arms over his head; Taemin appreciates the way his muscles shift under his skin. A guy’s gotta do something up here all day, he guesses. He also pouts, looking back outside. He thinks maybe he set up camp under that cluster of tall trees near the edge of the mountains, but there’s no way he can tell from here.

“I don’t wanna go all the way back out there,” he whines, pushing away from the window and flopping down on Jonghyun’s bed. “And I don’t wanna make the trip back and sneak passed your fucking dragon again tomorrow.”

“Why would you come back?”

Taemin lifts his head enough to peer at Jonghyun on the other side of the room; Jonghyun’s ruffling a hand through his hair and is frowning at Taemin with brows furrowed in confusion. He quirks a brow.

“I didn’t come all this way just to leave for no other reason than the prince I was supposed to rescue can’t be rescued,” he says, letting his head fall back down. “Get used to seeing me,” he adds. “I’m gonna make a friend on this adventure if it kills me.” And it probably will, if he has to get passed that dragon twice a day. He’ll totally get better at it as the time goes by. He believes in himself. Jonghyun doesn’t answer for a moment and he looks up again; Jonghyun’s just looking at him with the oddest expression on his face. He would name it as disbelief, but there’s a little bit of fondness in there, he thinks. “What?” he asks. “Am I supposed to just leave you all alone again?”

“Everyone else did,” Jonghyun says. He opens the door and tosses the towel out on a clothesline on the opposite wall of the hallway to dry.

“I’m not everyone else,” Taemin reminds him, and he grins because Jonghyun is smiling when he turns back around.

~

When Taemin wakes up, it’s nice and warm and his nose is buried in the soft skin of Jonghyun’s shoulder. He breathes deeply, nuzzling against him and tugging him closer. This was already a good idea when Jonghyun suggested it last night, but now, when he’s sleepy and groggy and wrapped nicely around Jonghyun’s small but solid frame, it’s much better. He hasn’t been this comfortable in weeks. They absolutely didn’t fall asleep like this; they fell asleep with Taemin sprawled on his back and Jonghyun cuddling his arm like a pillow. He supposes that’s not very different from how they wound up, anyway, though, as he yawns into Jonghyun’s skin and sighs comfortably.

“Not one to wake up quickly, are you?” Jonghyun turns halfway so his nose bumps Taemin’s cheek. If Taemin cared enough to open his eyes, he’s sure Jonghyun would be smirking. He nudges him away gently.

“I’m a growing boy,” he mumbles. “I need my rest.”

“Yeah?” Jonghyun asks. Taemin can feel his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over his wrist. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” he answers. Jonghyun snorts. He feels him shaking his head before his whole body shifts away. He whines softly when Jonghyun’s warm body leaves the bed, his arm falling to rest on the empty sheets.

“Come on,” Jonghyun says through a yawn. “Breakfast time for your growing boy needs.”

“What are we eating?” Taemin asks, rolling into his stomach and nuzzling his face into Jonghyun’s pillow. “And where do you even get breakfast from?” It’s not like he can just go out of the castle to hunt, what with the curse and everything.

“I told you, Kibum brings me food,” Jonghyun says. “Straight to my window in the mornings. See?” Taemin doesn’t see because he still hasn’t opened his eyes. He groans quietly because he really doesn’t want to, then does anyway, shifting so he can see out of the window over the side of Jonghyun’s bed.

He’s met with glistening sharp teeth, silvery blue spikes, and large, yellow, slitted eyes.

“Fuck–” He scrambles backwards in a panic, tumbles off of the bed and crashes to the floor with a painful thud. “Ugh,” he groans. Muffled laughter sounds from above him and he glares up at Jonghyun. At least he has the decency to try to hide it.

“He won’t do anything now that you’ve gotten to me,” he grins, offering his hand to help Taemin up. Taemin humphs and grabs it, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he gets his footing. “Looks like rabbit for breakfast today,” Jonghyun adds. Taemin frowns at the window where the dragon is still hovering, a dead hare laid out on the sill for them. He’s not too sure how smart dragons are, but he’s sure that this one is grinning at him like it couldn’t possibly be more pleased with itself. It blows puffs of steam from its nostrils and pushes off of the wall to soar away.

“Just straight up rabbit?” he grumps, turning back to Jonghyun. He hates plain rabbit. Jonghyun shrugs.

“I can do a little something-something with it and make it into rabbit stew,” he says. “There’s a little garden off of the west wing and a kitchen on the ground floor.”

“You have a garden?” Taemin asks, brightening up immediately. “I fucking love gardens–where is it, take me to it–what?” He pauses in his searching for his bandanna half in the sheets because he notices Jonghyun just standing there, looking at him with a quirked brow and an amused little smile. “What’s funny?” he pouts.

“You got a thing for plants?” he asks. Taemin feels pink coloring his cheeks and he puffs out his cheeks. Rude.

“I’m from the forest dwellers,” he grumbles. “It’s been weeks through deserts and mountains to get here.” He hasn’t seen more than simple clusters of trees and weird plants he doesn’t understand since he left the forest. “I miss taking care of them, okay?” He’s still pouting when Jonghyun chuckles and nudges his shoulder.

“Come on,” he says. “You can help me pick things.” He tugs on Taemin’s elbow and shoulders open the bedroom door. Taemin hesitates, then decides that he’s too excited to keep being grumpy and too tired to act like it. He follows Jonghyun out of the door and down the hallway, scuffing his foot through the soot left by the flame that almost killed him yesterday.

“You were kidding about the high-risk barbecue thing, right?” he asks. Now that he thinks about it, the dragon is supposed to protect Jonghyun. It wouldn’t do anything to harm him. Jonghyun grins at him from the corner of his eye.

“Kind of,” he admits. “Sometimes if I bug him a little bit he’ll breathe some half-assed fire at me. Usually he just lets me sleep under his wings when it’s cold.” He shrugs and makes a turn; Taemin snorts and glances down the other way, where he came from yesterday. He’s not pretending like he’s an expert on dragons or anything, but he’s pretty sure that people aren’t usually that buddy-buddy with them. “Hey, what’s a desert like?” Jonghyun asks suddenly, stopping in his tracks to tilt his head curiously. Taemin pauses with him.

“You don’t know?” he asks. Jonghyun shakes his head.

“I’ve never been out of this castle, remember?” he says. “I’ve read about other places in my books, but, I mean….” He shrugs and ruffles the hair at the back of his head, walking down the hallway again. Taemin watches him for a moment before he follows. He’d never even thought about stuff like this when he dreamed about adventures, about cursed princes to rescue and fiery dragons to defeat.

~

Once Taemin answers one question, twenty more come; they go through deserts, the sand walkers, their culture, and then every other subject that Taemin barely mentioned in an explanation. Jonghyun has endless curiosity about the world outside of his castle, asking about cultures, races, wildlife, plants, weather, magic; he gets adorably excited when Taemin shows him the simple blue light he can pull from his fingertips.

“It’s not really that impressive,” he says, even though he’s grinning smugly and wiggling his fingers so the light plays over the walls. “Most forest people can do stronger lights and some healing. I’m just not the most magically gifted.” He shrugs, shaking the magic out of his hand so he can go back to his rabbit stew. It’s surprisingly good, for a guy that’s spent all of his life in a castle tower. Maybe he’s got some cookbooks in his shelves.

“What about you?” he asks when there’s a lull in Jonghyun’s questions. “You have to have some stories about the people before me, right?” He realizes that it might be a sore subject, what with him actually being the first person to stay, but Jonghyun doesn’t seem to mind. He ladles some more stew into his bowl while he thinks.

“Oh–oh,” he says excitedly after a moment. “This one time, this one dude, pasty as fuck–probably from the cave salvagers, was that what you called them? Comes up here and just–doesn’t introduce himself, doesn’t even fucking say ‘hi,’ doesn’t stop to catch his breath or anything–just barges in and fucking picks me up, tries to jump out of the fucking window with me–”

“Why the fuck?” Taemin asks incredulously. It’s at least ten stories from this tower to the ground. “He must have had some kind of levitation magic?” He doesn’t know what kind of magic is common among the cave people. The pet bats put him off from ever going to visit.

“I don’t know, he didn’t even get out of the window because the curse stopped us, it’s like an invisible wall,” Jonghyun says, gesturing outside. “And then he just, demands that I explain it to him, and once I tell him that he’s gotta make me fall in love with him, he just leaves. Like that’s too much trouble for him. I didn’t even get to the part about being aromantic before he was out.”

“What an anus,” Taemin says, scrunching his face up at his food.

“That’s what Kibum said, too,” Jonghyun grins. Taemin looks up at him, confused.

“The dragon talks?” he asks. He didn’t know that they could do that. Jonghyun laughs softly.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I just kinda understand him. Tail flicks and grumbling. You know, dragon language. It comes kinda naturally after twenty-four years.”

“That long?” Taemin asks. He’s feeling worse and worse for this guy the more he learns about his shit curse. Jonghyun just shrugs though, like he couldn’t care less.

“It sucked at first, yeah, but I’ve made my peace with it,” he says. “It’s pretty nice up here, and enough people come by now and then and stop for chats before they leave.”

“Yeah, but….” Taemin says, trailing off. He shrugs after a moment, not wanting to talk about it if Jonghyun doesn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna get you out of here,” Taemin says. The certainty in his voice surprises even him; he’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to manage it, or even why the idea came on so suddenly, but he’s gonna do it.

 

Taemin pauses in his attempts to get his bag unstuck from his vest. Looking up, he finds Jonghyun shuffling to sit up in bed, ruffling his hand through his hair in that way that Taemin has come to associate with uncertainty.

“Well--yeah,” he says. “I said I would be.” All he did was run back down to where he set up camp the other day, grab his stuff and trudge back up to the castle. At least the dragon didn’t try to fry him this time. He was barely even gone for an hour. Still, Jonghyun’s looking at him with confusion, a little bit of disbelief. He looks Taemin up and down searchingly.

“I… thanks,” he mumbles, lying back down against his pillows. Taemin grins, quirking a brow; Jonghyun sounded suspiciously stuffy.

“Were you crying?” he asks, slinking over to drape himself over Jonghyun’s side. Jonghyun humphs, wiggling onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

~

“Fuck--fuck--Jonghyun--I’m suddenly reconsidering this--”

“Now, pull back--!”

Taemin makes the most embarrassing squeaking noise and flinches back around the corner. A short burst of fire heats his hand; the only reason he doesn’t drop his skewer is because Jonghyun is holding his wrist against the wall. Jonghyun is also laughing excitedly in his ear, huddled behind him and holding his own skewer out to get flamed. This was not as good of an idea as it sounded when Jonghyun suggested it a few days ago. He doesn’t how how Jonghyun does this on a regular basis; Taemin went straight from apprehensive to scared-fucking-shitless as soon as he saw the annoyed flash in the dragon’s eyes when Jonghyun lobbed the first pebble at its back.

“Fun, right?” Jonghyun asks, too loud for how close he is, when the last flames fizzle out against the back wall. Taemin thinks maybe he’ll regain the feeling in his soul sometime before the year ends. Jonghyun chuckles and shakes him a little bit, pulling him away from the corner and leaning him against the back wall. “I guess it’s not for the faint of heart,” he smirks. Taemin finds it in him to scoff, shaking himself out of his daze and shoving Jonghyun’s shoulder lightly.

“My heart is strong as fuck,” he grumbles, choosing to inspect his food instead of look at Jonghyun’s smug face. The bread is toasted, leftover chicken from last night’s dinner crisped up nicely, and the onions are a little charred, but from the way Jonghyun is excitedly picking one off of his own skewer, he likes them that way. Taemin plucks off a piece of bread and eats it himself. “How did these turn out so perfectly?” he asks.

“Kibum knows how I like my food,” Jonghyun says happily, leaning back around the corner and tossing a wink at the dragon.

~

“What’s this?”

Taemin turns from his shuffling through Jonghyun’s shelves to see Jonghyun sitting by his bag, looking through all of his stuff curiously. He holds something up; Taemin glances at it.

“It’s my umbrella,” he says, leaning back to lie on the floor and reaching for it upside-down. Jonghyun rolls it over obediently. “Keeps rain off of you, and shades you from the sun.” Taemin says, picking it up and opening it, twirling it a little bit before he tosses it back to Jonghyun.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says, holding it over his head. “You know, I’ve read about people using these in my books, but this wasn’t what I was imagining at all,” he mumbles. Taemin watches him inspect the leafy designs with an odd feeling in his chest. He’s been picking up over the past few days that Jonghyun is lying about liking the life he has up here on his own. More than he’s already picked up on before, anyway. It takes him a moment to realize that the new emotion in his chest is determination.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he says. The certainty in his voice surprises even him; he’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to manage it, or even why the idea came on so suddenly, but he’s gonna do it. Jonghyun blinks, fumbling with the umbrella to close it.

“You can’t,” he says, getting to his feet. He sets the umbrella against Taemin’s side and moves to sit on his bed. Taemin tsks.

“Not with that attitude,” He replies, flapping his hand dismissively. Jonghyun frowns, brows furrowing.

“You can’t,” he repeats. “I’m too fucked up--”

“There has to be another way,” Taemin says confidently. He tosses the umbrella back with the rest of his stuff, then follows Jonghyun to the bed and flops out all over it. “Maybe I could find the one that cursed you and get them to reverse the spell. Do you know who it was?”

“Ugh.” Jonghyun flops sideways onto his pillows. He wiggles to his back and throws his legs over Taemin’s stomach. “It’s a family curse,” he mumbles. “Every second son once they turn five or some bullshit. I’m the first in a few generations to get pinned with it.”

“Well--why did your parents get pregnant again, if they knew you’d be cursed?” That seems like a serious flaw in logic. Like, Jonghyun could have been not a boy, but why would they take the risk? He lifts his head to peer at Jonghyun just as he lets out a shallow laugh.

“I wasn’t supposed to exist,” he says. “They weren’t planning on twins, and I came a couple of minutes after.”

“Oh.” Taemin lets his head fall back down onto the sheets. “That’s not fair,” he says. Jonghyun snorts.

“I’d figured that out for myself.” There’s a bitter tone in his voice that shuts down anything Taemin could say, not that he could think of anything. He slips his arms up to rest on Jonghyun’s legs, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin and playing with the little hairs. It’s silent, but it’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence. He looks up at the fabric hanging above the bed, examines the designs, appreciates the light color.

“You’re not fucked up,” he says after a while, turning his head lazily to peer at Jonghyun. “There’s people like you all over. And… it’s not the same, but, I don’t really… like sex. At all.”

“But… guys with beards, though,” Jonghyun says. Taemin snorts, cocks a brow in his direction; Jonghyun shifts a little bit so he can peer down at him. “Like, I’ve had sex with some of the knights before they left, and some of them had beards, like not too long ones, just a little more than stubble, and it’s so nice to feel them against your skin, and between your legs, and--”

“Do you want me to talk about how great my first boyfriend was and how much I loved him?”

They look at each other for a moment, playful challenge in their eyes, before Jonghyun breathes out a soft laugh and looks back up at the ceiling.

“Nah,” he says. “I get it.” Taemin snorts and looks back at the ceiling himself, reaching up for a spare pillow because he feels a nap coming on. “Thanks,” Jonghyun says, and Taemin gives him a warm smile before getting comfortable on the pillow, closing his eyes.

~

Rain smells differently up here.

Everything kind of smells differently up here, Taemin thinks, as he sits on bed, leaning on the windowsill and staring out at the grey skies. He’s used to damp soil, wet leaves, soaked bark; here it’s crisp, sharp, off hard stone and wet grass. He doesn’t know why this fascinates him so much; it’s just an experience he’d never thought about before he set off on his journey.

“What are you thinking about?” Jonghyun slinks up behind him, leaning against his shoulder and peering outside with him. Taemin glances at him from the corner of his eye and shrugs with his other shoulder so he doesn’t push Jonghyun off.

“Your rain smells weird,” he says. Jonghyun snorts.

“Okay,” he says, flopping to his back and fluffing his pillows. “Whatever that means.” Taemin looks over his shoulder; Jonghun’s reaching for one of his books and settling against his pillows.

“Is this what you do all day?” he asks. “Sit around, read books?” He pushes away from the window and lies down next to Jonghyun, nuzzling his side and getting comfortable. Jonghyun shrugs.

“I used to go exploring the castle, when I was younger,” Jonghyun says. “But that got boring after a while. And it’s miserable down there when it’s raining.”

“Mmh.” Taemin can only imagine how shitty it is down there right now. Cold and damp and--ew. He’s still fucking bored though. He gets up and heads for his bag, looking for anything to keep him entertained. He finds his bow and laughs triumphantly until he realizes that he lost his quiver and arrows to the mountain and hadn’t gotten around to making more yet. “Ugh,” he groans, flopping dramatically onto the cold stone floor.

“What?” Jonghyun asks, and when Taemin looks up, he hasn’t even taken his eyes away from his book. He groans again and rolls onto his stomach.

“I was gonna practice my shooting but I don’t have any arrows,” he whines.

“I have arrows,” Jonghyun says after a pause. This time when Taemin looks up, Jonghyun is folding his page in his book and peering over at Taemin and his bow curiously. “People drop them, and I like to collect them when I’m in the castle.” He gets up and shuffles over to a cabinet next to the bathroom door, and when he turns back around, he’s holding a quiver of arrows. Taemin scrambles up excitedly. Thank fuck. He grabs at the quiver and takes it to the bed, dumping them all out so he can inspect them.

They’re not the best, shoddy workmanship, dull points, weak wood, but they’re good enough for some simple practise, he guesses.

“Can you shoot?” he asks Jonghyun as he picks out some of the best ones.

“Kinda,” Jonghyun admits. “I had a whole bunch of arrows once, and I would try to shoot at things outside, but then I, uh….” He goes a little pink and ruffles his hair. Taemin hums at him in question. “I realized the flaw in my plans when I tried to go out and collect them and… couldn’t,” he says quietly, looking anywhere but at Taemin. Taemin snorts, tries not to giggle and fails, muffling them in his hands as he watches Jonghyun flush even darker. “Shut up,” Jonghyun grumps. Taemin tries, he really does. He can just imagine it, the poor guy realizing that he can’t leave the front gates, Kibum giving him his amused dragony smirk as he stomps back up to his room. “Can you shoot?” Jonghyun asks defensively. Taemin finally stops giggling enough to scoff.

“Can I shoot,” he repeats. “Of course I can shoot. Archery is a forest dweller’s pride.” He turns up his nose, like Jonghyun’s gravely offended him with his question. Jonghyun looks like he doesn’t give two shits as he gets up excitedly, tugging on Taemin’s elbow.

“Can you show me?” he asks. “I found an archery target a few years after I gave up on the whole thing. I think I left it on the seventh floor.”

“I thought it was miserable in the castle when it rained,” Taemin says, cocking a brow.

“Yeah, but, archery,” Jonghyun says insistently. Taemin grins. That is a good point. He gets up, grabbing his bow and letting Jonghyun tug him through the stone hallways.

~

They’re fucking around with fake swords in the garden when they hear Kibum roaring from somewhere down in the castle.

It startles Taemin; he trips and almost squashes one of Jonghyun’s pumpkins before he catches himself. Jonghyun is used to it and he cackles, poking Taemin in the stomach with his sword so he flops into the dirt with an oof. Taemin humphs at his smirk and uses his own wooden sword to push himself up.

“What the fuck was that,” he asks, frowning at the general direction of Kibum as more noises come from the castle. Jonghyun’s grinning wide, reaching for Taemin’s hand and tugging him inside.

“It’s a dashing new suitor here to not take me home with them,” he says excitedly. “If they get up to my room, I mean,” he adds. “Come on.” He tugs on Taemin’s hand again; Taemin follows, dumping their fake swords just inside the door with a sense of curious excitement. He’s never been almost-rescued by someone before. They dash back up the the tallest tower, Jonghyun giggling when more noises of fire and fighting reach their ears.

“Aren’t you worried Kibum will get hurt?” Taemin asks when they get inside, watching Jonghyun launch himself onto his bed and sit up all nice and pretty. Jonghyun shakes his head with a shrug.

“Nah,” he says. “He can’t be killed. He’s cursed too. And he never really tries to kill people. He just likes fucking with them a little bit.” He pats the empty space next to him on the bed. “Come on, you’re getting not-rescued too.” He winks; Taemin snorts. He slinks forward and sits next to Jonghyun, trying for a few seconds to be pretty and graceful before deciding that he doesn’t care. He’s hot, in a casual kind of way. That should be good enough.

The noises of battle get closer and closer as the time goes by; Taemin feels kinda sorry for whoever is making their way up here. It’s entertaining to listen to now, yeah, with Jonghyun bouncing excitedly by his side, but he remembers how not fun it was being down there himself. All of a sudden it all stops, just outside the door; there’s a thump on it as whoever made it passed Kibum leans against it and catches their breath.

“I should have done that,” Taemin mumbles. Jonghyun snorts, cocking a brow at him and laughing softly.

“Instead of just barging in here sweaty and gross and gasping for air, you mean?” he asks, and Taemin shoves his shoulder lightly.

“It was a great entrance, fuck you,” he grumbles. Jonghyun nudges his shoulder back playfully, and then the door creaks open.

Their not-rescuer slips into the room backwards slowly: heavy boots, singed trousers, a gorgeous quiver with two arrows left dangling from a tired hand, a loose shirt that falls off of their shoulder, a bandanna around a pale neck, and just as Taemin is coming to the realization that this person is a forest dweller, he recognizes their profile.

“Minho?” he says incredulously. The guy turns around, and yeah, that is absolutely Minho, the tall fuck, looking at him with wide, confused eyes.

“Taemin?” he asks, with just as much disbelief. Jonghyun nudges Taemin’s side.

“You know him?” he asks, looking between Taemin and Minho with confusion. Taemin grins, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, he’s my friend,” he says, wiggling up to pull Minho more in the room and look at him better. “How did you get all the way over here?” he asks, brushing dust off of Minho’s shoulder. “I thought any adventure you went on would take you to the ocean surfers, for sure.”

“I….” Minho says, trailing off and shaking his head. He always was one to take a minute to recover from unexpected turns like this. “I did spend a while there, yeah,” he says, grinning finally and pushing his hair out of his face. “But then I moved on, heard about a lost prince, thought I’d come and rescue him.”

“Hey, that’s me,” Jonghyun says from the bed. Taemin turns around; Jonghyun is bouncing a little bit, waving at Minho cheerily. He grins and slinks backwards to sit next to him again.

“Yeah,” he tells Minho. “Go find your own prince. I’m already rescuing this one.”

“You can’t rescue me,” Jonghyun groans, flopping over his side. Taemin pats his hip.

“I’m working on it,” he says. Jonghyun humphs a response.

“Uh,” Minho says, from where he’s still standing in the doorway. “What?”

“Long story,” Taemin says, leaning to lie down behind Jonghyun and nuzzle the back of his neck. Jonghyun squeaks away from the coldness of his skin and wiggles so he’s half hanging off of the bed, looking at Minho upside-down.

“I’m supposed to fall in love to break the curse on me, but I’m aromantic, so I can’t,” he explains. Taemin nods from behind him.

“Oh,” Minho says.

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says, and Taemin giggles. He wonders if he says that “yeah” to everyone when he tells them.

“That’s weird,” Minho says, frowning a little bit.

“No it’s not,” Jonghyun says, and Taemin doesn’t even have to look to know that he’s frowning too.

“Your brother is aromantic, you huge dingus,” he reminds Minho.

“No, I meant, like, it’s weird that he still got stuck in this castle,” Minho says. Jonghyun makes a noise that Taemin understands as “no shit” and Minho shrugs a moment after. He walks forward and nudges Taemin’s legs. “Scoot over,” he mumbles. Taemin obeys easily and Minho flops down, resting his head on the wall with a sigh. “So you’ve been here this whole time?” he asks next. “Just up here with prince boy and his dragon?” Taemin shrugs.

“I guess?” he says. “Why, has it been a long time?” He’d kind of lost track of the days even since he’d gotten here. “I got here around a month after I left, I think.”

“It’s been four months since you left,” Minho says. “You missed the sprite hatchings and everything.”

“Ahh, what?” Taemin whines, wiggling into a better position to pout at Minho from. That’s his favorite time of the year. He can’t believe he forgot about it.

“Is that the thing with all of the little green sparkles you told me about?” Jonghyun asks curiously, throwing his legs casually over Minho’s. Minho looks at Jonghyun’s legs, and then shrugs. Taemin copies Jonghyun with a smirk when Minho frowns at him for a moment.

“Yeah,” he says. “Did your brother hide from them all again?” he asks Minho, laughing when Minho starts giggling in confirmation.

“He forgot it was happening too,” Minho grins. “So he was outside and one flew right up to him and he just screeched.”

“Fuck,” Taemin breathes. He’s so sad he didn’t see that.

"Oh--are you talking about the one that runs the sweet sh--"

“What else have I missed?” Taemin asks eagerly, poking Minho's stomach with his toe.

Minho tells him, and then Minho asks about his journey, and soon they’re both just sharing stories, laughing and catching up until Taemin notices the sun making its way down behind the mountains.

“It’s getting late,” he observes, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. Minho looks outside as well, humming in confirmation.

“I should get going, then,” he says, sitting up with a quiet grunt of effort. “I was thinking about going back to the ocean after this, actually.” Taemin frowns, worried.

“Do you have a camp set up out there?” he asks. “There are other rooms in the castle you could spend the night in, if you wanted.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Minho says, waving his concerns away. “I’ve got a hammock set up by those trees, just like home.”

“Ohh, lucky,” Taemin hisses. “I lost mine in a sandstorm two weeks after I left.” He’d love to have just one more night swaying comfortably in his hammock, with a leafy ceiling over his head and the soft sounds of the forest to lull him to sleep. He pouts for a moment, then shakes his head with a shrug. “Do you wanna take a bath before you leave, then?” he offers. “Just through that door there. Pull the lever if you want it warm.”

“Oh, cool, thanks,” Minho grins, giving Taemin that awkward half-wave he gives everybody when he leaves their company and slipping through the bathroom door. Taemin smiles at the closed door for a moment before lowering his arm, slipping it around Jonghyun’s waist and turning to nuzzle his shoulder.

“I never thought I would miss that tall fucker so much,” he murmurs fondly.

“Great,” Jonghyun mutters. He slides off of the bed with a short breath. He doesn’t look at Taemin as he runs his fingers through his hair, or as he strides to the other side of the room where his desk is. Taemin watches him move things around on it with short, quick movements uncertainly.

“Um,” he says. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Are you gonna offer him my clothes, too, before he leaves?” Jonghyun snaps, still not looking at Taemin as he gathers up an armful of stuff--Taemin’s stuff--from the desk. He carries it over to the wardrobe and yanks that open, taking more things out and draping them over his arm. Taemin blinks at him, taken aback.

“I’m--no, I… I just thought that--you wouldn’t mind,” he says, and the way Jonghyun scoffs and slams the wardrobe door shut tells him that maybe that’s not exactly the problem here. Jonghyun takes all of his stuff to the corner of the room where Taemin keeps his bag, kneels down, and starts shoving things haphazardly inside. “What…,” Taemin starts, watching him with a growing sense of unease, “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing your shit for you, so you can leave with him,” Jonghyun says, almost growls at him from the corner. Taemin sits up, bewildered.

“Why would I leave?” he asks. “I don’t--”

“Because you so obviously want to,” Jonghyun spits, turning to face him finally. Taemin doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jonghyun actually angry like this. “So you can go home to your forest and your archery and your people that you love so much.” There’s wetness pooling in Jonghyun’s eyes even as he glares at Taemin from across the room and no, no, this isn’t supposed to be happening, this is all wrong.

“I don’t--I don’t want to leave, Jonghyun,” he says, standing up but making no move to step closer. “I like you, I like being here with you, it’s--”

“Yeah?” Jonghyun cuts him off scornfully. “You like me so much, right? When as soon as someone new comes along, you all but forget about me?”

“I didn’t….” Taemin starts, but lets himself trail off because he realizes that if he finished that sentence, it would be a lie. He did forget about Jonghyun, for a little bit; he got so caught up in talking to Minho, in reminiscing, that he’d ignored Jonghyun for the whole conversation. Brushed off his questions, barely paid attention to his remarks, didn’t even notice when he’d gone quiet. He looks down, ashamed to meet Jonghyun’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” he says quietly. Jonghyun scoffs again and when Taemin looks back up, he’s met with his bag being shoved forcefully against his chest.

“Don’t want to stay a second longer here than you need to, right?” he snarls, pushing passed Taemin to slump onto his bed and curl up into a tight little ball in the corner, yanking the blankets around himself. Taemin just looks at him, at a loss for words for a long moment. How can he even think that he wants to leave?

“Jonghyun,” he says, dropping his bag on the floor and sitting back down on the bed, as close to the angry lump as he dares. “I left home for a reason. I wanted something different. And I told you, I don’t want to leave--”

“Until you can rescue me, I know,” Jonghyun growls. “And I’ve told you that you fucking can’t. So fuck off and stop wasting your time rotting in this fucking tower with me. Go adventure with Minho since you care about him so much.”

“I--I care about you, Jonghyun.” He doesn’t understand how Jonghyun can just suddenly forget about that. Has he not been paying close enough attention? Jonghyun pulls his blankets tighter around himself, if that’s even possible.

“Well I can’t care about you, so--”

“Don’t say that, don’t you fucking--dare tell me--” Taemin is angry now, is standing up, trying to yank the covers off of Jonghyun so he’ll be able to say that to Taemin’s face. Then it’ll be obvious how fucking hard he’s lying right now. The blankets won’t let up so Taemin clenches his fists instead. “I don’t fucking care if you can’t fall in love with me, Jonghyun, but don’t you dare tell me that you don’t even fucking care about me even a tiny bit. And don’t fucking act like you want me to leave because I know that you don’t.” He’s seen how Jonghyun gets when Taemin talks about missing his old home, when he comes back in after some exploring of the grounds outside of the castle, when he clings to Taemin in his sleep.

“You don’t know me,” Jonghyun says, quietly but defiantly. He scoffs.

“No?” he asks. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re the most obvious fuck on the planet. You’re just scared of being alone again and you’ve--” he thinks he hears a sniffle from the lump of blankets--“You’ve convinced yourself despite every single shred of evidence that I’m just gonna fucking leave you like everyone else and you’re just trying to force me out first because you think it’ll hurt less!” He doesn’t know when he started shouting. He doesn’t even remember the last time he was this angry. Jonghyun is making little noises, little sniffles, tiny little breathes.

“Stop,” he whispers, in a voice so tiny that Taemin barely catches it. “Please, just stop.”

“No,” Taemin snaps harshly. He’s sure that the lump of blankets flinches away from his voice, but he doesn’t think he could stop now if he wanted to. Not until Jonghyun knows how wrong he is. “Because you know what, Jonghyun? You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted. You’re what I fucking left home for. You’re too fucking important for me to just leave now and I don’t fucking care if we’re not gonna live happily ever after in some bullshit romance fairytale because that’s not why I’ve been sticking around for--for months, Jonghyun, months I’ve been here!” He’s pacing now, walking around the room and gesturing with his hands even though Jonghyun can’t see because he needs to do something, he can’t just stand there and watch Jonghyun tremble under the covers. “Because I like you and I like doing things with you and I like being your fucking friend, Jonghyun.”

He comes to a pause, breathing heavily through his nose. He’d never been one for long rants like that. They’re tiring, fuck. Jonghyun still hasn’t moved from his tiny little bundle of blankets, hasn’t stopped making pathetic little noises. Taemin feels the fight leaving him as he watches and he sighs, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He sits heavily on the bed again and tugs at the blankets.

“I don’t want to leave,” he says for what he hopes is the last time. “But if you really want me to, Jonghyun, I will walk out of that door and you’ll never see me again.” He slips his hand up to what feels like Jonghyun’s leg and squeezes insistently. “Is that what you fucking want?” Maybe he wasn’t as calm as he thought he was a second ago; that last question came out as half of a growl. Jonghyun doesn’t respond for a long moment, but then slowly, quietly, he wiggles around and pulls the covers down just enough to reveal red, watery eyes, smudged cheeks, a bitten lower lip. He shakes his head and reaches out of the blankets for Taemin’s arm, tugging him down.

Taemin complies easily, gently, lying out next to Jonghyun and letting him cling to him, letting him muffle against his neck and weep. He was planning, when he was stomping angrily around the room, to make Jonghyun explicitly say that he wanted Taemin to stay. He’s not going to now. He thinks this is more than he could have demanded. He thinks they don’t really need an words between them to understand what the other is feeling.

Jonghyun is getting hot tears on his neck, but he holds him anyway, pets his hair, nuzzles the top of his head. Soon Jonghyun mumbles nonsense words, just noises, and leans away slightly, pushes at Taemin’s shoulders, with a little frown. Taemin understands without him having to say anything: he feels too stuffy, too cramped like this. He repositions them easily, shifting so his back is up against the wall and he can be the big spoon to Jonghyun’s little. Jonghyun holds his hand and nuzzles his palm. Positioned like this, they could be just waking up in the morning, like normal.

The bathroom door opens then; a slow, awkward creak. Suddenly it occurs to Taemin that the bathroom door is far from soundproof and absolutely none of that was secret. He focuses a level gaze on Minho when he peeks out, wet hair and fully clothed and a little bit too well-timed to be perfectly coincidental. He’s not going to say anything; Jonghyun is still holding onto Taemin’s wrist, quietly sniffling, so he’s not going to either. Taemin just hopes that Minho has more tact than he remembers and the sense to not bring it up.

“I, um,” he says. “I have a spare bandanna, if you want one, Tae,” he says awkwardly, closing the door behind him. “I saw yours all burned up in there."

“Oh,” Taemin says. That’s not the best segway, but it’s good enough, he supposes. “Uh--no, thanks. I kinda like it that way. It adds character.” He grins easily and Minho snorts, shaking his head fondly.

“Sure,” he says. “Just like managing to get poison ivy every year builds character too, right?”

“Hey, you know what,” Taemin starts snootily, but then Jonghyun lets out a tiny giggle and he stops, smiling softly and tugging him a tiny bit closer. “It was good to see you,” he says instead. Minho smirks, cocking a brow like he knows Taemin was going to sass him. He bends to grab his bow and quiver by the door, slinging them over his shoulder easily.

“Same,” he says. “And uh--maybe I’ll see you two again soon, yeah?” He doesn’t say whether it’ll be inside or outside of the castle, but the way he nods at Taemin, he gets the feeling that Minho believes in his ability to find a loophole in the curse.

“Maybe,” Jonghyun says in his tiny little voice. He sounds like he’s smiling, however slightly so. “Keep safe,” he adds. Minho gives him a little smile, then gives both of them his awkward little wave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey,” Jonghyun says quietly, just barely breaking the comfortable silence that had been stretched between the two of them all afternoon. Taemin cracks open a lazy eye and hums to show that he’s listening. “Do you love me?”

“Will  you just admit that you’re fucking cold already so we can go bug Kibum?”

No.

No Taemin will not just admit that he’s cold already because if he’s being perfectly honest, Kibum still freaks him the fuck out. So he shakes his head, bundles himself up even more in Jonghyun’s blankets and pretends that he’s not shivering right now.

“I’m used to the c-cold,” he says, scrunching up his face because Jonghyun absolutely noticed his little stutter there. “I’m a forest dweller,” he continues, sticking his nose into the air before hurriedly ducking back down into the covers so only his eyes are visible. He tries to make them as haughty as possible. “It rains all the time back home.”

“Taemin….” Jonghyun trails off, shaking his head fondly. “That’s not rain out there. It’s sleet.”

“What the fuck is sleet?”

“It’s slushy, frozen, almost hail, rain.”

It’s what. Taemin wiggles in his little blanket cocoon to peep out of the window. He’s never seen whatever the fuck is going on out there, but he can tell that it’s absolutely a step up from rain. It falls from the sky in sheets, covers the ground in what looks like ice.

“What the fuck,” he grumbles. This is bullshit. He misses his forest and its warm spring rains. There’s no icy bullshit back home. Jonghyun grabs his shoulder and shakes him insistently.

“Come on,” he whines. “Kibum’s really warm.” Taemin shifts uncertainly, looking from the bullshit going on with the sky to the bedroom door, which leads to Kibm in all of his huge, spiky, dangerous dragony glory. He humphs.

“Fine,” he mumbles, wiggling out of the blankets and shivering as soon as they’re gone. “Fuck.” Jonghyun muffles giggles into his hand before he grabs Taemin’s, hauling him to his feet and tugging him through the castle. “Are you s-sure he’s not gonna t-try to kill me?” He’s stammering because it’s cold. One hundred percent. Jonghyun cocks a brow.

“I’m sure,” he grins. “Hurry up, I’m cold too.” He tugs Taemin through hallways and down stairs. He’s pretty sure that they’re heading for the dragon’s treasure room, but he can’t be certain about it because he doesn’t like to come down to this part of the castle because the dragon’s treasure room is over here. Jonghyun walks confidently though, right up to the big impressive door and shoulders it open. “Kibummieee,” he calls, swinging Taemin’s hand into the air with his. “We’re cold.”

There’s an answering rumble from somewhere in the piles of gold and silver; Taemin would call it a growl if he thought Kibum would ever growl at Jonghyun. His big silvery blue head slips out from behind a pillar, sharp yellow eyes peering at them coolly. Taemin shifts ever so casually behind Jonghyun and peeps over his shoulder. Jonghyun nudges him cheekily and throws him a smirk; Taemin knees him in the back of the thigh. The dragon slinks out and through mounds of gold and pillars of stone until he comes to a rest, laying down and leaning against the closest pile. He blinks at them lazily before closing his eyes all the way.

“What,” Taemin says, his fingers curling into the back of Jonghyun’s sweater. “What the fuck does that mean?” he hisses. Jonghyun sighs and rolls his eyes.

“It means we can go snuggle on him,” he says, starting forward and tugging Taemin along behind him. Taemin steps warily, sticking close to Jonghyun just in case. Jonghyun waltzes right up to the dragon and reaches to pat his scaly stomach. “Mmm,” He hums, letting go of Taemin to press right up against Kibum and nuzzle his scales. “He’s so warm, Taemin, come on,” he says quietly, gesturing with his finger. Taemin really doesn’t want to, but he inches forward anyway at Jonghyun’s insistence, reaching out slowly until he just kinda pokes Kibum’s tummy.

“Oh,” he says (Jonghyun snorts). He flattens his hand, feeling the scales, almost unbelievably silky smooth under his palm. And so nicely, wonderfully, heavenly _warm_. He feels all of his hesitations melting away like nothing. Jonghyun says he’ll be fine. He trusts Jonghyun.

He trusts Jonghyun and steps closer so he can press closer to Kibum. The dragon is breathing slowly and he can feel it under him. It’s oddly calming.

“Bro,” he says through a heavy breath. Jonghyun chuckles softly as he presses up against Kibum’s stomach fully, nuzzling against his warmth. He takes Taemin’s hand again and moves them to sit comfortably up against Kibum’s neck. Kibum shifts suddenly; Taemin almost jumps out of his skin when long claws pass in front of his face as a leathery wing drapes over the pair of them.

“Relax,” Jonghyun says, giggling into Taemin’s shoulder. Taemin humphs, turning up his nose. After a moment, though, he wiggles happily and shifts unto a more comfortable position under Kibum’s wing. This is so warm. This is so good. This is so nice.

“This is so nice,” he mumbles. Jonghyun turns to nuzzle his shoulder.

“I told you so.”

~

The little garden out on the west wing is nowhere near as extensive or well-kept as even the simplest ones from his home in the forest, but it still offers a kind of sweet, comforting sameness that Taemin cherishes. Jonghyun keeps throwing him little, amused smirks from where he’s knitting in his makeshift nest of blankets in the shade but Taemin doesn’t mind. He likes it up here, in the one tree that the garden has, a little apple tree in the corner. The apples are different from the ones back at home too, but that’s okay. He just likes the feel of the bark against his cheek and the branch thick and supportive between his legs.

“Hey,” Jonghyun says quietly, just barely breaking the comfortable silence that had been stretched between the two of them all afternoon. Taemin cracks open a lazy eye and hums to show that he’s listening. “Do you love me?” Jonghyun asks. He’s not shy about it, not suspiciously casual, not secretly scared; he seems genuinely curious as he peers up at Taemin with his big eyes. Taemin thinks for a moment.

“I used to,” he mumbles truthfully. He doesn’t want to talk too loud. He feels like it’ll disturb their peaceful moment. “A little bit.”

“Yeah?” Jonghyun asks, cocking a brow. Taemin smiles against his tree, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah,” he confirms, remembering the soft moments when he looked at Jonghyun and loved him. “That time a while back when you were fixing up my bandanna?” He brings his hand up to touch the bandanna around his neck, rub his thumb over the seam between the old fabric and the new. “Because I told you how important it was to me?”

“To your proud little forest dweller heart, yeah,” Jonghyun says cheekily. Taemin is too relaxed to do more than flap a vaguely offended hand in his direction.

“You were so… so cute, and so pretty, and so amazing right then, and I just… I felt it in my soul.”

“You’re a fucking sap.”

Laughter bubbles in Taemin’s chest and he opens his eyes to look at Jonghyun with disbelief.

“Fuck you,” he says, even though he’s still laughing. He knows that he’s a sap. He’s pretty fucking proud of it. Jonghyun laughs too, a soft little sound, but still enough that he has to stop in his knitting for a moment. He starts up again soon, though, and glances up at Taemin up in his tree.

“Do you still love me?” he asks, wiggling his brows. Taemin snorts.

“Nah,” he says easily, shrugging one shoulder. “I fall in love all the fucking time. Minho used to give me shit about having a crush on every visitor that came to our village.” He can’t help it if his heart is a fickle, hopeless romantic. “It was just a little crush for a week or two,” he goes on. “No big deal.”

“Oh,” Jonghyun says, focusing back on his work. Taemin frowns a little bit.

“Does that make you feel weird?” he asks. He knows that he feels a little uncomfortable when people try to get into his pants. Fuck, he used to feel weird when he just knew that someone kind of wanted to have sex with him.

“Nnnnot really,” Jonghyun says slowly. “It’s only natural for you, right? Like, I want you to fuck me sometimes. When you haven’t shaved in a while and you’ve got like. Rugged stubble and shit. Mmm.” He winks; Taemin scrunches up his face.

“Euh,” he mumbles.

“Rude,” Jonghyun mumbles back.

“I’m sure your ass is lovely,” Taemin says, tilting his head so he can cock a brow at Jonghyun down there. “But still. Euh.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jonghyun grins. “I won’t look anymore, if it bugs you.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Taemin says, shrugging. He doesn’t mind if Jonghyun just thinks he’s hot sometimes. “Hey--are you done yet?” He leans sideways on his branch in that way that Jonghyun keeps telling him not to to get a better look at his knitting. Jonghyun had been making a scarf for around a week now, ever since he got tired of Taemin whining about the cold. He‘s pretty good at it, too, nimble fingers and skillful loops accompanied by the rhythmic clicking of the needles. Taemin supposes it makes sense, that he’d be good at things like this; it’s not like the dragon was going to knit him new socks. Jonghyun pauses a moment to lift up the scarf and flutter it out over his legs.

“Almost, I think,” he says, tilting his head. He squints up at Taemin in his tree. “How tall are you?”

“Taller than--”

“Just--just come here,” Jonghyun says quickly, waving away the short joke Taemin was making. Taemin cackles quietly to himself as he swings effortlessly out of the tree. He lands easily and slinks forward to Jonghyun’s little nest, where Jonghyun hands him the free end of the scarf. “Hold that up to your head,” he demands. Taemin obeys, appreciating the soft material and pretty patterns. It dangles all the way down to sway at his feet. “Hmm,” Jonghyun says. “Yeah, I’m almost done.” He gives Taemin a wink and tugs the scarf back gently. “Let me just make this end cute like the other one.”

“Sure.” Taemin follows the scarf down, twisting it around his neck as he goes so he can snuggle next to Jonghyun, rest his head on his shoulder, and watch his fingers work. Jonghyun pauses for a moment so he can wiggle his arm around Taemin’s and link them together. His fingers work gracefully to knit little leaf-shaped tassels. Taemin thinks those might be his favorite parts about the scarf. He rubs the first one between his fingers when it’s done, feeling the fabric and appreciating the skill that Jonghyun has for this. He also appreciates Jonghyun’s warmth, his steady breathing and comforting smell, as he closes his eyes again and dozes off.

“Is this weird?”

Taemin scrunches up his face. He’s trying to doze off here.

“Is what weird?” he asks. Jonghyun shifts a little uncomfortably beside him.

“Us, like… _this_ , like… with the cuddling and everything?” He squeezes Taemin’s arm gently as he says it. “Like…. Not that I’m an expert or anything, but, don’t people usually only act like this when they’re in romantic relationships? With their partners?” Now he’s sounding unsure, sounding small, where he wasn’t just a short while ago. Taemin shifts to rest more comfortably against his shoulder as he thinks for a moment.

“Well… I mean,” he starts, “Yeah, I guess.” He finds Jonghyun’s wrist and holds it gently, traces a finger along the veins under his skin. They do cuddle like this a little more than what he would consider the normal amount of friend cuddles. “But you’re just so snuggly,” he whines, pouting against Jonghyun’s hair. Jonghyun snorts, smiling softly as he nudges Taemin’s side.

“I know,” he says, “and I like snuggling you, and spending time with you, and doing things like this, but I feel like… like I should be in love with you. But I’m not.” He’s stopped his knitting; he’s just twirling strings of yarn around his needles and poking at the scarf. Taemin frowns.

“You shouldn’t… worry about... should and shouldn’t,” he says slowly. Jonghyun turns to look at him, a little confused frown on his lips; Taemin blinks because he kind of confused himself a little bit there, too. “I mean--it’s not like there are rules and a handbook for this kind of stuff, Jonghyun,” he says. “You should just do what feels right.”

“Mm,” Jonghyun hums. He plays with Taemin’s fingers absentmindedly as they run along his skin. “This feels right,” he says after a  few minutes. Taemin smiles, lining up their fingertips and splaying their hands out in the air.

“Then keep doing it,” he advises. Jonghyun smiles too, then, picking up his knitting again.

“Okay.”

~

Jonghyun always smells so nice. It’s Taemin’s favorite part about waking up in the mornings; smelling the soft, musky scent of the bath oils that he uses the night before in Jonghyun’s skin. It reminds him of home, a little bit. He doesn’t know exactly why. He doesn’t smell like leaves, or smoked wood, or anything he can remember from home, really, but it’s a comforting smell.

He yawns against Jonghyun’s shoulder. Jonghyun’s probably going to wake up soon, and then he’s gonna be all bouncy and cheery and peppy, but for now, Taemin can tug him closer with the arms around his thin little waist and enjoy his warmth.

He’s dozed off again by the time Jonghyun finally wakes up, so it’s not as bad as usual, but he still whines in the back of his throat when he feels Jonghyun inflating with his sleepy breath. Jonghyun lets it out in a whoosh, a tired chuckle falling from his lips as he shifts to nudge Taemin’s side.

“I haven’t even gotten up yet,” he mumbles. Taemin ignores his accusatory tone in favor of whining more, clinging to Jonghyun so he can’t get up and leave him cold and alone. Jonghyun wiggles half-heartedly, tugging lazily at Taemin’s wrist, and then, he hisses. “Feels like part of you is awake early today, though,” he breathes. Taemin hums in question, confused as to what Jonghyun is talking about, until Jonghyun shifts again and he realizes.

“Mmgh,” he mumbles, shifting his hips and erection away from Jonghyun’s ass. He rolls onto his stomach, clumsily tugging on Jonghyun’s shoulder so he’ll turn to his back. “Sleep boners don’t count,” he pouts, nuzzling into Jonghyun’s chest. “You know I don’t--”

“Yeah, yes, I know,” Jonghyun says, patting Taemin’s head. Taemin smiles as Jonghyun sifts his fingers through his hair. “It’s just your dick subconsciously appreciating my stunning rear end.” Taemin doesn’t even have to look to know that Jonghyun is grinning like a shit. “It’s a friend boner,” he says wisely.

“A broner,” Taemin adds sleepily. Jonghyun giggles, and then he laughs so hard Taemin has to wake up fully just so he can lay on top of him to get him to stop.

~

“Hey--you’re sure that you know what you’re doing?”

“I’ve been cutting my own hair all my life.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Is there something wrong with my hair, Taemin?”

Taemin purses his lips, frowning up at Jonghyun from where he’s perched on the windowsill. Jonghyun stands there, scissors in hand, and raises his eyebrows like he’s daring Taemin to say he doesn’t like his hair.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with your hair,” he mumbles, and he really means it. He likes the whole spiky black fringe thing that Jonghyun has going on. He thinks it’s cute. “It’s just… different,” he says. Jonghyun snorts.

“Different from your frumpy, casually fluffy, oddly half-shaved, forest dweller middle part, you mean?” he asks, waving his scissors in little circles. “Like, that is a forest dweller thing, right? Because Minho had the exact same hairstyle except in black.” He pokes Taemin gently with the scissors; Taemin pouts, flapping them away.

“It’s a popular style back home, okay,” he grumps. Jonghyun smiles, running his fingers through Taemin’s too-long hair. He gently turns Taemin’s head back forward and starts sizing up the length with his fingers.

“I think it’s nice,” he says. Taemin rolls his eyes. He lets Jonghyun play with his hair, tells him the length he usually gets it cut to, closes his eyes and relaxes under Jonghyun’s care. Soon Jonghyun starts snipping away, running his fingers through the strands at the back, testing how it looks. “Do other areas have popular hairstyles, too?” he asks curiously. Taemin grins. Here come the outside world questions again.

“Yeah,” he says simply. “It’s like fashion. They come and go.”

“Hmm.” Jonghyun brushes some hair clippings off of his shoulder and out of the window. “How do the desert people do their hair?”

“The sand walkers? I’m not exactly sure.” He lifts his hand to scratch an itch on his head; Jonghyun swats it away. “I didn’t exactly spend a lot of time there. And the only big city I went to was a huge bazaar area. A bunch of different cultures all mixed together.” To be honest, he travelled mostly at night, just stopped at each small inn long enough to get some food and sleep through the day.

“Hmm,” Jonghyun says again. Taemin shrugs in apology for not knowing more. Things are silent for a few minutes as Jonghyun switches to fix his bangs on the other side. He’s doing something different from normal, Taemin thinks. Kind of layering the front so it feathers out. Taemin didn’t ask for it, but he doesn’t really mind either way. He’s still gonna be cute. “I wanna go to the desert,” Jonghyun says suddenly. He plays with the ends of Taemin’s hair. “I think it’d be fun.”

“It wouldn’t be, trust me,” Taemin says, starting to shake his head before Jonghyun stops him and holds him in place. He grins instead, reaching up to poke Jonghyun’s leg, since it’s the closest thing. “It’s way too hot out there.”

“You just overexaggerate temperatures all the time,” Jonghyun says, flapping his free hand dismissively. “I bet it’s lovely and warm.”

“I bet it’s not,” Taemin says, cocking a brow. Jonghyun chuckles, circling back around to his front to swish his newly cut bangs around.

“You’ll just have to take me so I can see for myself,” he says matter-of-factly. Taemin tilts his head, squinting at Jonghyun suspiciously.

“You’re serious,” he says. He doesn’t get how Jonghyun could be serious, but that’s what it seems like, and--Jonghyun nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “I want you to take me to the desert.”

“But--” Taemin starts. He’s confused. Jonghyun tosses his scissors on the bed, then grabs Taemin’s wrists and tugs him up to his feet.

“You’re the one that’s always going on about finding a loophole in the curse, aren’t you?” he asks as he steers Taemin in front of the open wardrobe. Taemin barely glances at his new hair in the mirror before looking over his shoulder at Jonghyun’s raised eyebrows.

“Well--yeah, but--”

“So I’m still waiting for you to figure it out,” Jonghyun says simply. He pats Taemin on the shoulder and backs away, smiling easily while Taemin struggles to figure him out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taemin drops him.

_"My lovely princess, I have found you at last!”_

_The girl, laid gracefully on her beautiful back in the fresh grass of the stunning castle garden, looked up at last to find her charming prince. Her long hair flowed beautifully out of her face, like a deep ocean wave. All it took was one look at the knight, his shining armor, his gleaming heart of gold, for her to fall in love._

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Taemin mumbles at the book. The dude hasn’t even taken his helmet off yet. Taemin himself isn’t even that ridiculous--and he fell in love three times in one week once. This whole book is clichéd and ridiculous and just… mediocre. He loves it. He readjusts himself on the blanket-covered bench out on the balcony of the castle library and continues reading.

_“You’ve come for me,” she breathed, her sweet voice like a soothing bell._

_“I have, my precious,” the knight boomed, his deep voice strong like the rippling muscles he used to defeat the fiery dragon below. “Now let me take you from this wretched place.” He took hold of her gorgeous legs by the backs of her voluptuous knees. Gently, he brought them to circle around his waist, like the jaws of a monstrous ant clamping down upon its prey._

“Wait--what,” Taemin asks himself. Did he pick her up? Or is she just--still half on the ground? And what the fuck was with the ant thing? He’s confused.

“Hmm?” Jonghyun hums from where he’s immersed himself in his book about the tall knight and her sparrows. Taemin glances up at him for a moment, then back down at his book.

“Nothing,” he mumbles. Jonghyun’s probably read this before, yeah, but Taemin is sure it’ll be cleared up soon. He’s probably just reading it wrong. He shifts so he has better light from the sun and continues on.

 _She lifted her graceful arms serenely from the grass_ (so she _was_ still on the ground, Taemin notes with a frown) _and placed one delicate hand on his bearded, muscled chin._ (How fucking long are her arms, Taemin asks himself, frowning more.) _The other fell gently over her forehead in a lovestuck swoon. The handsome knight, enamoured by her ravishing shoulders, gripped them in his large hands and lifted her up inches from the loam._

_“My love,” he whispered ruggedly, “Let your despicable curse be lifted with the passionate press of my lips against yours.” And with that, he bent over to press true love’s first kiss to her dainty lips._

“What--what the fuck,” Taemin says. He squints at the words on the page. Then he reads over it again, and then again, and then a third time just to make sure that he’s read it exactly right and he’s not just confused. That kiss makes absolutely no fucking sense.

“What?” Jonghyun asks, peeping up at him over his book. “What are you reading?”

“I’m--this book,” Taemin says blankly, holding it up so Jonghyun can see. Jonghyun takes one look and his face immediately brightens; he scrambles to his feet and almost trips over himself trying to get to Taemin’s bench.

“Is that the one with the five hundred different adjectives and the ant metaphor and the--”

“The fucking ridiculous ass kiss?” Taemin asks, too confused to be amused at Jonghyun’s eagerness.

 _“Yes,_ _”_ Jonghyun hisses. “I’ve been confused about that for _years.”_

“It’s just--she’s just-- hovering? Like three inches over the ground? And he’s practically bent in half? And he never took his helmet off?”

 _“Exactly,_ _”_ Jonghyun says. “It’s fucking _weird._ ” He looks so fucking happy that he’s finally find someone that agrees with him about the kiss. It’s kind of cute, but Taemin’s still just doesn’t _get_ it.

“I can’t even... imagine it?” he says, squinting back at the words.

“I can,” Jonghyun says, bouncing excitedly. “Come on, come on, get up--I’ve wanted to try this out for real for _so fucking long_ \--look, I’ll be the princess.” He tugs Taemin up off of the bench, grabs a blanket and flaps it out nicely over the floor. Taemin watches, grinning as Jonghyun practically vibrates with excitement.

“Why do you get to be the princess?” he asks cheekily. “I’m the pretty one.” Jonghyun stops in his smoothing out of the blanket to give Taemin a look.

“Because I’m the prince,” he says flatly, like that means anything in a reenactment of a badly written romance. Taemin snorts. That is a good enough point though, he supposes. Jonghyun lies on the blanket, fluffing his hair and smirking up at Taemin. “Am I graceful?” he asks.

“You’re… you’re something,” Taemin says, shaking his head fondly. Jonghyun winks at him a few times from his blanket.

“Now kiss me,” he demands. “Kiss my dainty lips.”

Taemin muffles another snort in his hand before he reaches down to grab Jonghyun under the knees like the book said. He scoots forward so Jonghyun can lock his ankles around his lower back, like the jaws of a--fuck, he’s giggling. Jonghyun giggles as well, muffling them in one hand while he reaches up with the other. His fingers wiggle somewhere around Taemin’s stomach.

“I can’t reach your chin,” he says through little bouts of laughter.

“Oh, are your arms not freakishly fucking long?” Taemin asks in mock disbelief. “Here--I’ll just--” He bends over awkwardly, combining steps two and three so he can fit his hands under Jonghyun’s shoulderblades and lift him up enough that Jonghyun can reach his chin. ‘Uh--yeah,” he says. He wobbles a little bit, cursing under his breath. This is a horrible position. Jonghyun’s thumb smooths over his jawline absentmindedly.

“You’re missing the hot beard,” he says, lips curving into a smirk. Taemin rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he says. “And swoon.”

“Oh--right--” Jonghyun’s smile turns cuter as he throws his hand dramatically over his forehead. “Let my despicable curse be lifted by the passionate press of your lips against mine.”

“Do you have the whole book memorized?” Taemin asks incredulously. He shifts to a better stance and bends over so their faces are closer. He can’t lean any closer to reach Jonghyun’s mouth without the both of them toppling over and his waist is starting to hurt a little bit from Jonghyun’s legs around him.

“I’ve read it a few times, yeah,” Jonghyun says. “Hold on--Maybe I can kinda--” He slips his hand around Taemin’s neck and uses the leverage to tug himself up a little closer. “True love’s--passion--ha--” He pulls himself up a little higher and tugs Taemin down a little lower until their lips press solidly together. They grin triumphantly against each other’s mouths for approximately two seconds before it happens.

Jonghyun’s mouth falls slack. His legs fall from around Taemin’s waist, his hand drops from Taemin’s neck, and he goes limp, so that Taemin has to struggle to hold him up by his shoulders. He pulls back slightly, confused; Jonghyun’s eyes are closed. He could almost be sleeping, if that wasn’t a fucking ridiculous thought.

“What,” Taemin says breathlessly, and then Jonghyun starts to glow. His tanned skin turns literally golden and a faint, warm light shines all around him. His eyes slowly open to stare into Taemin’s eyes without seeing; they’ve gone completely golden as well, shining with a gorgeous, ethereal magic.

Taemin drops him.

He thuds to the floor. Taemin watches, extremely confused, as Jonghyun continues to glow with that stunning golden light. To accompany this, like it wasn’t already weird enough, there’s a sudden roar from Kibum down below. Taemin glances between the library door and Jonghyun quickly. Oh. Shit. Down on the floor, Jonghyun’s glowing starts to fade.

The light fades from his eyes as the lids droop, his skin returns to its normal dark tone, and he makes a little noise. His eyes flutter open and he lifts a hand to his head. He looks around, peers blearily up at Taemin, frowns.

“You dropped me, you piece of shit,” he grumbles.

Taemin really doesn’t think that that’s the most important thing right now.

“You--you were glowing?” he says. “Like---really glowing? It was freaky?” Jonghyun is struggling to his knees; Taemin realizes that he should probably be helping him to his feet a moment too late. Jonghyun takes his hand anyway, using it to pull himself the rest of the way up. He rubs the back of his head with a wince.

“Was I really?” he asks, and Taemin squints at him incredulously.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure you were really,” he snaps. How can he not remember something like that? “We were reenacting the scene, and then we kissed, and then you just went fucking limp like you were _dead_ or something, and then you just--glowed?”

“We kissed?” Jonghyun asks, rubbing his palms into his eyes. “We--we did, we kissed,” he says slowly. He must be remembering. Then he suddenly looks up at Taemin with wide eyes. “We kissed,” he repeats, urgently this time. “Do you--do you think--the curse--?” Taemin frowns. That would be the most logical course of thought, yeah, but how could it have been?

“But you don’t….” he starts. “You don’t love me?”

“I--huh.” Jonghyun puffs his lips out in a pout. “No, I don’t.” He wobbles to the bench and sits down on it, thinking. “I was… looking at you, and you were looking at me, and I was just thinking about… how lucky I was to have you as my friend, and how nice it was to have someone to do shit like that with, and how important you were to me, and--and yeah,” he says quickly, blushing a faint pink and lifting a hand to ruffle the hair at the back of his head. Taemin smiles at him, a fond little smile because he’s cute when he’s embarrassed.

“Well,” he starts, and then he doesn’t finish because there’s suddenly a flash of silvery blue off of the balcony. Taemin flinches; Jonghyun gets up and turns in a much calmer way to face Kibum. The dragon is hovering there, flapping his great wings almost erratically, stretching his long neck out to nuzzle at Jonghyun’s vest insistently. Taemin frowns, confused and mildly worried. He’s not an expert in dragon like Jonghyun is, but he does know that he’s never seen Kibum this urgent and excited before. “What’s--what’s he doing?” he asks as Jonghyun reaches out to hold Kibum’s scaly face in his hands.

“I’m--he wants to… fly away, but--he’s cursed too, he can’t leave a certain perimeter until my curse is lifted.” At his words, Kibum flaps off into a graceful backflip, flutters back up and nudges Jonghyun more intensely. “He really wants to leave,” Jonghyun mutters. “With me,” he adds when Kibum noses gently against his shoulder. “But I can’t have--” Kibum cuts him off by soaring away again, far out over the clearing and briefly over the mountains before circling back. Taemin’s never even seen him fly up to the bedroom window in the mornings, let alone glide such large distances like this.

“Do you think, maybe, somehow…?” he asks hesitantly. “I mean, Kibum would know, right? He’s been the family dragon since the curse started?” Kibum suddenly switches to nuzzling at Taemin instead. Taemin flinches again, but recovers quickly as Kibum’s silky scales brush against his arm. Jonghyun’s looking at them both in wonder.

“I’m--yeah, and he’s saying yes, but… am I, Kibum?” he asks. “Free? Really?”

Somehow, Kibum manages to calm himself down enough to sit in front of Jonghyun, gracefully folding his wings back up even as his tail swishes impatiently behind him (Taemin ducks and scuttles out of the way). He leans his big head forward until it’s resting right up against Jonghyun’s and stares into his eyes. Taemin thinks it’ll be years before he’s on the same level of communication as the two of them. Jonghyun just stares back at Kibum for a long moment before he stumbles back onto the bench.

“I’m really free,” he says blankly. “It--you did it,” he says, looking back up at Taemin with big eyes. “I have no fucking idea how, but--” He gets up suddenly and wraps around Taemin in a crushing hug. Taemin grunts. Like, ow. He’s still trying to figure out where all of that glowing came from. “I can leave,” Jonghyun whispers against his shoulder. When he pulls back to smile at Taemin, his eyes are shiny and bright. “I can get out of this castle.”

Taemin watches as his wide smile slowly falters, his eyes lose some of their light and all of his wonder is replaced with uncertainty.

“I don’t--I don’t want to leave,” he breathes, burying his face back into Taemin’s shoulder. Taemin still has no idea what’s happening, but he slips his arms around Jonghyun’s waist and holds him gently anyway as he shakes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can just kidnap you away from the kingdom anyway, if you want to leave,” Taemin says confidently.

“I’ve spent my whole life wanting to get out of this castle,” Jonghyun says hollowly, sprawled out over his bed with his leg dangling half off. “And now I don’t want to.” He groans and rolls over, flopping onto his stomach. Taemin pats his butt sympathetically. He gets it, he thinks; Jonghyun had always assumed that he would never get out, so he didn’t bother with wishful fantasies about what he would do when he did. He’s just overwhelmed because he’s suddenly so much smaller than he ever was with the whole world opened up to him.

“I don’t even remember what my fucking parents look like,” he grumbles. “How am I even supposed to act when I go back… there?”

Taemin feels like Jonghyun stopped himself from saying the word “home.” He doesn’t really know what to say; he hasn’t known what to say about this for the passed few days. He’s never exactly had to deal with a situation like this before. He flops over to lie on top of Jonghyun and pet his hair.

“At least you know what your twin brother will look like,” he offers helpfully. Jonghyun snorts into his pillow.

“Shut up,” he mutters. He wiggles to his back and throws his legs over Taemin’s lap. “I don’t know,” he sighs after a few minutes of silence. Taemin pats his leg as he sits up and looks absentmindedly out of the window. Kibum is out there, soaring gleefully through the sky over the mountains. He’s far enough away for Taemin to know that he’s fully enjoying his new freedom, but close enough that he can be back at the castle quickly if Jonghyun decides that he wants to leave any time soon.

“Look,” he says after another minute of silence. “I’m going with you, right? Since I’m your dashing and handsome rescuer?” He winks; Jonghyun snorts, kneeing him lightly in the stomach. He nods after, though, so Taemin continues. “And, like… you’ve been in this castle for most of your life. They _have_ to let you travel, right? To see what you’ve been missing?”

“I… guess,” Jonghyun mumbles.

“If they don’t, I can just kidnap you anyway, if you want to leave,” Taemin says confidently. “Or I’ll tell them that you have to come with me to my village to meet my people. That it’s a cultural thing. Or something.”

“Yeah?” Jonghyun asks, cocking a brow and a tiny smile. “You can’t lie for shit.”

“Well, then, you’ll tell them,” Taemin says, rolling his eyes. “The point is, you’ll be able to leave if you want to. You won’t be forced to stay in one place anymore.” Hell, they can even come back to the castle if Jonghyun really wants to. Jonghyun looks at him for a moment, sighs, and turns his head so he’s staring at the door.

“Will you take me to the desert?” he murmurs, glancing at Taemin from the corner of his eye. A soft laugh builds in Taemin’s chest, spills out of his lips.

“Would you ever let it go if I didn’t?” he asks.

~

Two weeks later, they’ve learned two things: Jonghyun does not do well in crowds, and he can’t stand being waited on.

The first few days were great; the mountain settlers were overjoyed to have their prince back, his family was sweet and likeable, he and his twin hit it off like they hadn’t been separated for twenty years. Everything was a little too intense for Taemin, but he figures that that’s just because he’s from one of the most relaxed groups of people on the planet. The people liked him anyway.

Soon, though, it became painfully obvious--to Taemin at least--that Jonghyun was getting tired much faster than usual. He’d withdraw from conversations with more than three or four people, and when he had to speak to groups of people, Taemin would feel his fingers curling into the back of his vest if things went on for too long. At night and in the mornings, Jonghyun would complain about his throat hurting from doing more talking than he'd ever done before.

According to Jonghyun, his brother has some problems speaking so much as well, but his is just worse because he hasn’t been able to adjust to it. Taemin doesn’t really think that it's the same, or that it's an excuse to shove him into groups of people, but he’s just glad that he can read Jonghyun well enough to know when he needs to politely pull them out of a conversation.

And about adjusting to a full castle life--Jonghyun had gotten into at least five arguments by the third day with various castle workers that insisted on doing things for him, insulted the chefs by trying to make his own breakfast, and shocked the whole laundry room when he wandered in and tried to wash his own clothes. It’s almost cute, how he got all pouty and indignant, like people don’t trust him to do simple tasks. Taemin kind of just pulls him into a snuggle every time and reminds him that royalty normally don’t do jack shit in places like this.

“What about other places?” Jonghyun whines, leaning heavily into Taemin like he’s been mortally wounded. “What about your forest dweller royalty?”

“We don’t really have royalty,” Taemin says, steering Jonghyun through hallways and corridors towards what he hopes is his new room. He gets lost all of the time in this place. “We kind of just… coexist. Like, there are leaders and everything, but nothing like this.”

“But that’s so _weird_ ,” Jonghyun says. Then he snorts. “I think my own country is weird,” he mutters. “Who am I to talk?” Taemin smiles against his neck and presses a little kiss there because he’s found that Jonghyun likes it when he does that. Jonghyun likes any kissing, actually, almost as much as he likes snuggling. Taemin indulges him because it relaxes him after a long day, and because Jonghyun’s lips are somehow perfectly soft. It also makes it seem like they’re actually a couple in love to everyone else, which they figured was easier to claim since they still don’t understand how Jonghyun broke the curse without actually being in love.

“I think pretty much every culture of people I passed through on my way here did things like that in a different way,” he says. Jonghyun makes kind of a half groan, half wail against Taemin’s cheek. Then he pauses his dramatics for a second and stops them from walking passed a corner. He tugs Taemin around it instead, smirking when Taemin pouts. Taemin knew the bedrooms are that way. He was just taking the scenic route.

“How do the sand walkers do things?” he asks.

“What is it with you and the desert?” Taemin asks instead of answering, partly because he’s curious, mostly because he has no idea how to answer Jonghyun’s question. They put on sweet little smiles for the maids they pass before they reach Jonghyun’s room and he shoulders open the door.

“I told you, I wanna go there,” Jonghyun sighs, leaving Taemin’s arms to sink onto his bed. Taemin flops with him. It’s soft and plush like a cloud, but he still misses his old hammock. “You still have to take me there,” he adds. “You promised.”

“I did,” Taemin hums, slipping on top of Jonghyun and nuzzling his neck. Jonghyun flops an arm around Taemin’s waist tiredly. “I can take you whenever you want. I could take you now, if you wanted to make a daring escape through your window.” Jonghyun’s chest shakes under him as he giggles.

“Yeah, a daring drop of three feet.” He gestures with his free hand at the ground just outside the window. Taemin giggles too. It’s strange to be spending so much time so close to the ground. Even before he came to Jonghyun’s castle, his home in the forest was built up in the trees. Jonghyun lets his free hand join the other on Taemin’s back. “I think… I’ll tell the king and queen first.”

"Your parents?" Taemin asks. Jonghyun blinks, runs a hand through his hair.

"I guess--yeah."

~

“You okay?” Taemin pauses in his steps to glance back at Jonghyun when he hears him grunting quietly behind him. They’re in what Jonghyun would call a forest but Taemin would barely label as a smattering of trees, working their way through the smaller mountains that peter out into the desert. It only takes him a second to figure out what’s wrong; Jonghyun had gotten the bow Taemin made for him stuck on a stray branch again. He smothers a laugh in his hand and walks back to help him.

“Sorry,” Jonghyun pouts, looking at Taemin with his big eyes. Taemin gives him a little kiss and a little smile.

“It’s okay,” he says reassuringly. “You’re doing well.” And he really is; he’s been struggling with travelling on foot, used to his cozy life in the castle, but he’s improving every day. Just last night when Taemin came back from hunting for dinner, Jonghyun had already set up camp, with a little fire and everything. Jonghyun shuffles the leaves at his feet for a moment before a proud little smile quirks up his lips.

“I am, aren’t I?” he grins. Taemin rolls his eyes. A little bit of praise and Jonghyun’s ego goes through the roof. He gets his arm around Jonghyun’s shoulders and tugs him forward again, picking the most complicated looking trees to go through.

~

“Oh, fuck.”

“I told you.”

“Oh-- _fuck_ _-_ -”

“I told you and you didn’t believe me.”

“How do these people _live_ here, fuck,” Jonghyun hisses, dodging back inside of the inn and out of the hot desert sun. Taemin just smirks, watching Jonghyun shake his shirt over his chest to fan himself. He did tell Jonghyun the night before. They’d reached the outskirts of the nearest sand walker town after dark, when the air was crisp and cool. Jonghyun called Taemin a big baby, an overexaggerator, told him that it wasn’t even as warm as a regular night back at the castle.

Taemin let him sleep in this morning, just so he’d wake up in the thick of the afternoon heat.

“Taemin, I want to leave,” Jonghyun says firmly. “I don’t like the desert.” Taemin barely represses a snort.

“We just got here,” he says. “What about the culture? And the hairstyles? And they do have some really good food.”

“But it’s so _hot_ ,” Jonghyun whines. Taemin rolls his eyes. He grabs Jonghyun’s wrist and tugs him outside.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ll grab some food from the street vendors and spend the day here. We’ll leave tonight when it cools down. There’s another bigger city with an oasis not far from here.”

“But--”

“You don’t want to travel in the desert during the day, Jonghyun,” Taemin grins. He’s finding this all probably way too amusing. “Trust me.” Sure there are dangerous animals and it’s dark at night, but Taemin has his light magic and anything is better than trudging along in the heat. Jonghyun pouts, but lets Taemin lead him outside anyway, scrunching up his face as they step into the sun.

~

“Hey. Psst. Taemin.” Jonghyun nudges Taemin’s side with his elbow while he’s in the middle of trying not to stare at the cute librarian behind the desk. It’s a welcome distraction and he turns to Jonghyun quickly, humming in question. Jonghyun’s grinning, wiggling his eyebrows as he nudges Taemin’s side once more. “You like him, don’t you?” he asks.

Frick.

Taemin feels his face flushing a faint pink and he glances back at the librarian quickly, just to make sure that he hadn’t heard. It’s probably impossible that he did, since he’s like, seven shelves away, but still.

“Shut up,” he hisses. So what if he’s got a crush on the cute librarian. It’s Jonghyun’s fault. He’s the one that wanted to prolong their stay in the desert for a few days to check out this library. It’s not his fault that Jinki’s got a nice smile and soft brown hair and and a sweet voice and looks absolutely adorable in glasses and--fuck, he’s blushing even more. Jonghyun cackles softly and pokes a finger to Taemin’s cheek.

“You _looove_ him,” he singsongs quietly. Taemin scrunches up his face. He thought he was done with this when he left Minho behind in the forest.

“Are you five?” he asks, as haughtily as he can with his cheeks still pink. “I don’t need you making me feel all embarrassed for having a crush on someone,” he grumps. Jonghyun snickers some more, but just for a moment before he shrugs it off and holds up a book.

“Anyway,” he says, like Taemin was the one that brought up the subject, “Look at what I found.” Taemin looks; it’s a small, relatively worn looking book titled “Caring Without Loving.” Jonghyun brings it back to himself and shuffles through the pages eagerly. “I was wondering, you know, if there was a more specific word for what I’m like,” he says. “Because I knew what aromanticism was from a book in my library back at the castle, but I wasn’t so sure it was that simple. And look, look--” He finds the page he was looking for and shoves it under Taemin’s nose. Taemin takes it and holds it not so close so he can read easily.

“Cupiro--cup--cupri--”

“Cu-pi-o-romantic,” Jonghyun says slowly, with this little laugh that tells Taemin he struggled with it for a minute too.

“Ahh,” Taemin says, and then keeps reading the little section on the orientation.

_“Cupioromantic is a subset of aromantic. It is used to describe aromantics (people who never experience romantic attraction) who still desire a romantic relationship.”_

“Oh,” Taemin says next. “That explains a lot.”

“Right?” Jonghyun says, taking his book back eagerly. “Like, it explains why I like kissing and snuggling and going on little dates with you so much--well, used to, anyway,” he shrugs, when he sees Taemin open his mouth. Taemin smiles gratefully at his save. He still feels kind of bad for--for _breaking up_ , for lack of a better phrase-- with Jonghyun the other week, even though he knows that Jonghyun doesn’t mind. He just couldn’t keep doing so many sweet, romantic things with Jonghyun without falling in love again, and then getting sad that Jonghyun couldn’t fall in love with him, and then feeling guilty about feeling sad about something Jonghyun can’t change, and--and it would just stress him out.

At least platonic cuddles are still good for him. He wishes they could go back to platonic kisses. Jonghyun has really nice lips. Sometimes those would lead to Jonghyun wanting to have sex, though, and Taemin would again remember why they weren’t exactly ideal for each other to be in a relationship with.

“And look at this,” Jonghyun is saying, opening up another book and showing it to Taemin. This one is called “The Intricacies of Loving Relationships.” Taemin raises his eyebrows. That sounds like a boring ass read. Jonghyun is flipping through the pages eagerly though, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this knowledge--which, Taemin supposes, he kind of has. “It’s all about different types of romance, but also how romantic love is absolutely not the only kind of love between people,” he says. “Like, there’s infatuation and family love and unrequited love and community love and also,” he continues, slapping the book down on the table in front of Taemin, “friend love.”

Taemin looks at the picture being presented to him; it’s two people with their arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning brightly in a cliché image of friendship. He snorts, but skims the paragraphs about chosen bonds between friends anyway.

“So I’m thinking,” Jonghyun says as Taemin reads, “back at the castle, I was just _so much_ in friend love with you that it counted to break the curse.”

“That makes sense,” Taemin says once he’s done reading the page. It really does. He’d never thought about it before, because the idea of romance was so heavily ingrained into his life growing up, but other types of love being true enough to break a curse is entirely possible. Jonghyun gathers the book back up and holds it to his chest, bouncing a little bit and looking like the cutest little excited prince.

“There were some books like this on sexualities too,” he says helpfully, gesturing behind him with his elbow. “In case you were wondering if there’s a specific word for you.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Taemin says, shrugging. There probably is a word for him, but he doesn’t really care. He falls in love with cute boys and he gets kind of uncomfortable at the thought of having sex. It’s simple enough. “Are you glad that you figured yourself out, though?” he asks. That’s the important part here. Jonghyun nods quickly, eyes bright and shiny and excited. Taemin smiles. “Good.”

~

“You rescued a _what_?”

“A prince,” Jonghyun says helpfully from beside Taemin, smiling pleasantly at Taemin’s brother, at his friends, at the small group of other forest dwellers that are gawking at him from around a dinner table. “Prince Jonghyun of the mountain settlers, from a great big castle with a fire-breathing dragon, to be exact,” he adds. Taemin grins and nods around at everyone.

“Yeah,” he says, piling food onto his plate. “What he said.” He has to admit, this is a great welcome home; it had taken them a little longer than he had expected to get through the forest (or the “fucking solid wall of trees,” as Jonghyun had called it), but they’d finally made it, just in time for everyone to decide that it was dinnertime. He missed eating like this, with the whole village talking and laughing together, with the comfort of the forest around them, the soft lights coming from the houses up above in the trees. And later, he gets to sleep in his old hammock again for the first time in forever. He can’t wait.

“Bro,” Taemin’s brother says, reaching over the table and nudging his arm. “You can’t just leave it at that, come on. You disappeared for a year and came back with a _prince._ Give us _details.”_

“Has it really been a year?” Taemin asks, bewildered. He is not the best at estimating time. Now that he thinks about it, though, the seasons did cycle through on his journey. It was autumn when he left, then winter, spring, and some summer happened before he and Jonghyun left the castle, the rest of summer was spent getting back to the forest, and now, there are telltale signs of autumn all around him, once he looks around. “Huh,” he says. “Would you look at that.” Jonghyun snorts next to him.

“It’s a long story, then,” he says, “if it took a year.”

“Well that’s why you need to tell us,” someone else whines. Taemin grins, finally deciding that there’s enough on his plate for now and tugging it closer to start eating.

“I guess that makes--wait,” He says, urgency striking a chord in his heart. “It’s been a year--are the sprite hatchings coming up?” He’s gonna be so fucking pissed if he missed them two years in a row--

“Yeah, in two months,” his brother says. He breathes a huge sigh of relief. Jonghyun nudges his side.

“With all of the green things?” he whispers. Taemin bounces a little bit in his seat.

“Yeah,” he says happily. “You’re gonna love it. You just wait.” Two months is more time than he planned on spending back at home, what with his attempts to show Jonghyun the world he’d been missing all his life, but that’s okay. They both need time to relax, he thinks. “And then I think we’ll go visit the ocean surfers, on the other side of the forest,” he adds casually. Jonghyun sneaks a berry off of his plate, eats it carefully, and apparently decides that he likes it, because he snags a few more for himself.

“Why there?” he asks.

“Well, Minho should be there, we can visit him,” Taemin says, shrugging. “And I feel like you’ll love making sand castles. And also,” he adds, smirking slightly and throwing Jonghyun a knowing little glance, “a lot of people there have pretty nice beards.” Jonghyun’s eyes light up with excitement before their dinnermates hail them with questions, demanding to be told the full story.

Taemin starts from the beginning.


End file.
